


4 am disaster gays

by sungchanery



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Flirting, Fluff, Hair Dyeing, M/M, Roommates, Temporarily Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23285761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sungchanery/pseuds/sungchanery
Summary: hongjoong is sleepless and not the kind of tired sleep can fix, meaning that torturing poor yunho's scalp at 4 am is his only resort.
Relationships: Jeong Yunho/Kim Hongjoong
Comments: 16
Kudos: 90





	4 am disaster gays

**Author's Note:**

> wow, hello
> 
> i haven't posted for almost two years,,,,,,,haha
> 
> but!! here i am!!! with the first thing i've written in said two years and my first ateez fic ever!!! it sucks, but i gotta start somewhere, amirite
> 
> this is completely self indulgent and literally pointless but we love punk rock gays and we love it more when punk rock almost boyfriend hongjoong punkifies his almost boyfriend yunho! 
> 
> so, hohong for the soul 
> 
> LOVE YALL !!!!

Yunho is sitting on his messy bed covers, something from his “yunho Hz soundwave frequency” playlist on Spotify playing in the background as he’s idly scrolling on his phone when Hongjoong knocks on his door. He checks the time; a little bit past three thirty. Hm. 

“Come in,” he says a bit louder for the boy to hear and Hongjoong comes in, huge shirt eating up his already tiny body, making him look even more miniscule than usual. Yunho absentmindedly smiles at that, checking Hongjoong out as the boy casually leans against the doorframe, shooting Yunho a knowing look.  
  
“What’s up? Sleep’s not coming to you?” 

This is not the first time this happens. Yunho is often greeted by a sleepless Hongjoong at ungodly hours, either asking him for some company or to make him that special tea only Yunho knows how to make, which, really, is just an excuse for Hongjoong not to say that he can’t reach for Yunho’s tea bag jar on the top shelf. Yunho doesn’t mind any of this; he’s usually not sleeping either and if he doesn’t answer his door, Hongjoong never invades his personal space. That’s why their friendship and...roommateship has lasted for so long.

“Mhm, not really? And I’ve already listened to the playlist you’ve made me _twice_ ,” Hongjoong says with a quiet voice and a barely there pout, his socked foot playing with the corner of the carpet in Yunho’s room. He really seems like he’s been trying to sleep, his moves are lazy and his hair is a messy fluff on his head, even more than his usually unruly golden mullet. Yunho sits up on his bed, knowing that Hongjoong won’t let him stay there for long; knowing him, tonight they’re sleeping in the living room, with the tv still open, something they were supposed to binge watch staying un-binge-watched once again. 

“What do you wanna do? We still haven’t finished that anime on Netflix. What was Meliodas gonna do next? Maybe that’s why we can’t sleep at night, we’re still wondering,” Yunho chuckles at his own joke and he steals a glance at his mirror opposite to his bed, blue hair fading dangerously, his brown roots really out there to overthrow the turquoise curls. He suddenly feels self conscious; Hongjoong’s hair is always so well dyed, the colors he chooses to do almost never fading and his haircuts always impeccable, framing his face perfectly. He raises the hood of his hoodie up and he pulls on the strings, only leaving his face out, looking even more ridiculous. At least now he can serve as comedy relief, right? 

“We couuuuld, but…” Hongjoong trails off, watching the whole Hair Hiding Endeavor in front of him with an amused look on his face, “...what if I fixed that mint chocolate situation you’re hiding in there?” His eyes are now glinting, fatigue almost visible as it is leaving his body instantly. Yunho knows this look and, to be fully honest, it lowkey scares him. When something’s in that vast, unexplored, maze like place that is Hongjoong’s brain, it rarely comes out, unless it’s fulfilled. And it seems, judging from the way Hongjoong is staring at the top of his head with almost a joker grin, that he’ll be a victim of this brain tonight. This very morning. At almost four am. 

  
  
  
  


“Think this will work? This never works,” Yunho’s eyebrows are brought together in a frown as his eyes follow Hongjoong behind him through the bathroom mirror, searching intently for something in the cabinet. He is now wearing the most ragged shirt he owns to save his clean shirts from getting bleached, collar all worn off and low on his clavicles, hair even messier than before from the pulling Hongjoong gave them as he was thinking of what color Yunho should _definitely_ rock once in his life.

“Trust me, I’ve done this so many times already, I don’t _think_ this will work, I _know_ it will,” Hongjoong states with a confident lilt on his tone as if he’s the best hairdresser in the neighborhood, shitting on all the forty-year-old ladies around the block that only know how to dye red as the flashiest color in their palette. No lie, Yunho _does_ feel reassured, somehow, in a weird way. If Hongjoong ends up this breathtaking after every hair dying mental breakdown, capable to make Yunho’s soul do somersaults in his poor human vessel, then he really must know what he’s doing. 

“I trust you, just don’t let me go bald, your mullet’s not long enough to cover for my wig needs,” Yunho resorts to humor in order to block the anxiety that is banging on his mental door. Said anxiety reaches its peak, almost breaking said door like those creepy axe killers in horror films, when Hongjoong is mixing the bleach powder with the developer in his tiny, professional bowl, also professional brush in hand doing it like he’s is a full time hairdresser, singing along to a song by The Wombats that is currently playing from the forgotten playlist Yunho forgot to turn off in his room.

It gives him a moment to stare at Hongjoong’s face; his pointy little nose with the glinting nose ring, his long eyelashes and his almost permanently stained from the cherry lip tint he’s wearing everyday lips. He looks so concentrated and happy to do this and it makes Yunho’s heart skip a beat or two, it makes this four am disaster bearable, enjoyable, even. He shouldn’t lie, he really is enjoying this. Hongjoong is doing this for him and you bet he will look bomb after. Fuck his serial killer anxiety. 

“So. Ready? I’m giving you a way out right now, three seconds, or this bleach will go on my hair and I don’t know where that will end up,” Hongjoong says with a threatening bleach carrying brush above Yunho’s head and, truth be told, Yunho isn’t ready. But he cares about Hongjoong’s scalp and its well being, so he’ll take one for the team. He nods, rising a fist up to accentuate the whole being ready statement, internally screaming. “All ready, let’s do this!” His playlist starts blasting False Confidence and he feels like it is mocking his situation. Deserved. 

  
  


Truth is, it doesn’t feel bad when it’s actually being done. He looks clapped, like some kind of toddler made cake pop, hair slathered in white paste and his hair color slowly giving off to the chemicals, leaving back a blue tinted shade of yellow that is most probably nightmare fuel for every hair professional. But Hongjoong, now with his shirt off in order to keep bleach off himself (and Yunho with the ground off his feet because the nipple piercings Hongjoong decided to get for his twentieth birthday are now in full unadulterated view for Yunho to ogle at, rare sight, 11/10, Yunho can’t breathe both because of bleach fumes and this now) is completely calm, continuing to smear bleach on every faded blue tuft expertly without a care in the world. Yunho _needs_ to talk about something. Not talking is not Yunho-esque. Spiraling about Hongjoong’s nipples isn’t Yunho-esque either. 

“Did it hurt?”

  
  
“Did it hurt what?”

“The piercings.” Well. At least he stopped thinking about it silently. He’s not a coward.

“I have many, Yunho,” Hongjoong chuckles, that hot little laugh that sends Yunho’s in love braincells flying out of his ears, “which one? The nose? The ear ones? The tongue?” 

T-tongue? Tongue? Tongue what? Tongue piercing? What’s with Hongjoong’s tongue?

“I got it, like, a week ago, when I got my paycheck,” Hongjoong says casually like he’s announcing that they’re out of instant ramen, as if Yunho doesn’t care at all about Hongjoong’s pierscapades (piercing escapades). “Haven’t you noticed? Here,” and as Yunho’s scalp starts burning Hongjoong’s tongue is out of his mouth and oh. Here it is, the piercing, all silver and shiny and on Hongjoong’s tongue, right there, standing proudly, without caring that it is making Yunho burn in ways that no bleach would ever even remotely reach. 

“O-oh, right. Yes. You never told me! Suits you.” 

“Thank you,” Hongjoong smiles at the compliment, as he’s wrapping Yunho’s head in aluminum foil, wanting it to stay all warm and bleach friendly, “you weren’t talking about this one, but yes, this one hurt. Lots. But, no lie, I’m kinda addicted to it, the piercing pain,” he pats Yunho’s shoulder when he’s done, looking at Yunho through the mirror, assessing his work. The satisfied grin he gives himself makes this whole thing a million times worth it for Yunho. He smiles at his foil crown, looking like that one singer from Eurovision and he wants to see the finished product already, anxiety almost completely turned into utter excitement. 

“That sounds like something you would say.”

“Yeah. Maybe because I _just_ said it, dummy."

“You know what I mean! You’re way too into this. You’re almost single handedly paying the tattoo parlor’s piercers.”

“Word...but I think I’ll stop. For now,” Hongjoong looks thoughtful as he sits on the bathtub rim but probably his ass hurts from it being too narrow so he just sits in the bathtub instead, spreading his legs and resting his arms dangerously close to their shampoo and shower gel basket. “I think I’ll start paying the tattoo artists.”

“You what now?!” The knowing grin on Hongjoong’s face doesn’t make it easy for Yunho to keep his turmoil inner. Kim Hongjoong? Tattoos? Where? This is A Conversation. 

“Mhm. I’ve decided. These arms look bare enough,” he runs his hands on his toned arms, lean but definitely carrying some muscle action, maybe from the too many racks that Hongjoong is forced to move across the clothing store he works at. “Don’t you think? Would you get a sleeve if you were me?”

_I would get on my knees if I were you,_ Yunho thinks and almost slaps himself on the face for self reflect. “Yeah? I mean...you would pull it off. Suits your vibe.” 

“Hm. If you say so, I’ll think about it. Since we’re talking about vibes...when will you pay the tattoo parlor a visit with me?”

“To do what? I’m no piercing pain addict, even though I sure like the disinfectant smell in there.”

Hongjoong stares at his face for a bit too long, the gears turning in his head, trying to find out where Yunho will get his future piercing. Because he will get it. Probably that’s another thing that Hongjoong has in that brain of his. Yunho lets him even though he can’t help but shy away a tiny bit, feeling like he’s being examined. 

“What’s the verdict?”

“I’ve decided. A nose ring. Like mine.” 

“What? Me?” He instinctively turns to the mirror to check himself out, his brain conjuring the image of a nose ring on his button nose. It would be cute. Out of everything Hongjoong has randomly proposed, this sounds like the prettiest. 

“You’re vibing with it?”

“It...it would be nice? It looks cool in my brain, but then again, many things look cool in my brain.”

“Do I look cool in your brain?” Hongjoong tilts his head like a curious puppy but his kitten like smirk is a contrast to that, making Yunho flush pink to the sudden question. It draws a chuckle from the boy and Yunho’s cheeks feel hotter.

“You’re...like, a nine on the cool scale. Ten is Andy Samberg and one is...I don’t know, crocs? Crocs are a big candidate.”

Hongjoong’s laughter echoes in the small bathroom and it makes Yunho laugh as well, it’s so contagious, Yunho wants to trap it in a small jar and save it in his memory shoe box under his bed. 

“So...I’m cooler than crocs? Nice one.”

“I literally. Said. That you’re on par. With Andy Samberg. That’s, like, the best compliment I can give to anyone, he’s my ultimate crush,” Yunho blutters out without thinking, brain catching up too late.

“So, there’s your ultimate crush, and then there’s me? Interesting,” Hongjoong’s smirk doesn’t leave his face as Yunho furrows his eyebrows at the word “interesting”. What’s interesting about that? Yunho having a fat crush on Hongjoong ever since the university appointed him as his designated roommate and he appeared in the room, Hongjoong greeting him with the brightest smile Yunho had ever seen, his hair a bright red back then but not even rivaling it isn’t interesting at all. 

“You never told me if they hurt. Those,” Yunho points at Hongjoong’s nipple piercings, changing the subject, successfully moving from an embarrassing subject to an equally embarrassing one. Nice job!

“Right! They were...okay? I think I flinched a little but that was it. I have a high pain tolerance.” Yunho writes that down on his mental notebook. It will surely stir up turmoil in Yunho’s thoughts on some other day, when his thoughts aren’t strictly PG-13. 

“They...they look painful,” is the only word Yunho musters out of the one thousand he’s thinking about right now.

“Did they say that to you? You sure be looking at them more than you look at my face today.”

Being caught isn’t as sexy as people make it to be. Yunho feels like a ripe tomato right now. 

“Is that bleach ready?” He tries to avoid the shame by touching his foil wrapped tufts, feeling them hot, trying to think how they have ended up. Hongjoong stands up with a sigh and opens one up, the hair properly bleached by now, and he releases a cute hum as he starts unwrapping the locks one by one, dumping all the trash in their sink because he is too bored to reach for the actual trash can. If you’re gonna wreck havoc, Yunho thinks, then do it right. 

“Is this how it’s supposed to look?” Yunho says with disbelief after staring at his hair, currently looking like a melted lemon blueberry popsicle. He wants to touch it so bad, but getting bleach on his hand sounds dangerous. He does it, nonetheless, and Hongjoong is quick to swat his hand away. 

“Why would you do that, you big baby!” Hongjoong wastes no time before catching Yunho’s hand in his own, putting it under running water, washing the bleach away himself even though Yunho would be totally capable of doing it himself. It feels good, when Hongjoong goes out of his way to take care of him and even though Yunho feels like he’s on fire every time, there’s nothing else that actually fills up his heart more than that. 

“I swear I tried not to.”

“Please don’t do the same with your hair dye, unless you want to have bamboo fingers.”

“That sounds tempting...are you trying to keep me away from doing it?”

Hongjoong sighs but smiles as he wipes Yunho’s and his hands dry. “I might have to bite your hand next time you’re gonna attempt to do it, then. No half measures.”

“Still not helping.” As if Yunho doesn’t want Hongjoong’s mouth anywhere near close to his fingers. Maybe he should really slap himself for self reflect this time.

“Sit down before I change my mind and leave you looking like a cheap bath bomb,” Hongjoong pulls on Yunho’s hand and takes him closer to the bathtub, pushing softly on his back so Yunho can bend over it. 

“Wait, will you rinse it for me? I can do it-”

“I started the whole thing and I will finish it. Close your eyes,” he says firmly and after some seconds the water starts running, so Yunho really doesn’t have room for complaints. And, to be honest, he barely has any, with Hongjoong’s small hand massaging his scalp and softly caressing over his nape, washing away the bleach and leaving Yunho grossly blond and madly, unrequitedly in love.

Yunho really thinks that he can’t be more in love with Hongjoong than he already is, and that Hongjoong, even though he prides himself on being shrewd, can't be more indifferent about it. But when he looks himself at the mirror for the last time, the clock hitting way past six am and his hair way past their turquoise ombre phase now full green sitting messily and a whole lot more damaged than before on top of his head, Yunho feels that maybe, just maybe, Hongjoong can feel a bit like him, if he tries enough. Because he looks hot, it’s the first time he can say so himself and the way Hongjoong’s eyes are on him right now, look fully focused and unreadable but _there,_ makes him feel like good days are about to come. If only, he let himself fall in Hongjoong’s _punk rock_ orbit. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> please let's talk aus @yeekiies on twt i NEED more and more atiny moots :D


End file.
